


Shining Angels

by timmy_cardiac



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Feels, M/M, Weirdness, but then things get happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timmy_cardiac/pseuds/timmy_cardiac
Summary: Messages can be sent in any form, sometimes even in dreams. There is definitely a reason he had this dream, but he's going to fight it anyway.OR that sort-of angel/demon thing going on





	1. Angel's Robes

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is kinda different bc I never actually put names in until the very end but it's pretty easy to figure out what's happening when there are these great things called tags

He was standing alone in a vast expanse of whiteness, like how the inside of a cloud might feel, but less wet. There seemed to be no up or down, and he wasn’t sure there was actually a ground to stand on. He floated peacefully in this place, this whatever-it-was. It couldn’t be heaven. There was no heaven for him. So then where? It seemed like every other person’s interpretation of what they wanted heaven to be. 

The atmosphere was warm. There was a soft breeze, but his hair and clothes were untouched by it. 

He thought he could hear whispers. A message from the dead, perhaps? He yearned to know what was being told to him, he was sure it was important. But every time he tried to focus on what they were saying, the murmuring would cease and he would wonder of they were ever there in the first place. 

Then he was staring into two oceans, which had appeared suddenly and without warning, and looking into them felt so right he wondered how long they had been there. Time seemed meaningless. It was a thing of earth, which he had long since abandoned. The water sparkled in the light. Come, it seemed to say. Fill your lungs, your heart. There’s plenty. 

He walked toward it, wishing it would swallow him up. But he found he could not move. He would have given anything to feel the cool fresh water on his skin. 

Laughter rang out from around him. Mocking, disgracing. The oceans shrunk until he could see that they were just eyes. The eyes of an angel. For surely this spirit was an angel. With hair darker than night, skin tan and smooth. The spirit smiled at him, but he saw something awry in that smile. It was different, not pure and welcoming. More like a predator deceiving its prey, luring it closer.

The gleam in the spirit’s eye was attractive, and it felt like the two of them were sharing a secret that would make others jealous, make them wish they were as fortunate to be noticed by this spirit so beautiful. 

He had to get closer, close until the spirit’s lips were under his own, his fingers twisted in the wavy black locks. He knew it wouldn’t be gentle. Good. He didn’t want it to be. He could imagine the spirit’s energy, filling his veins with water so cold it was like fire. 

He could see it so clearly in his mind, but found he still wasn’t able to move, and he became frustrated. He willed his body to move, for something to work right. It was unfair. But as much as he tried to force himself, his body refused to be freed. He held out his hand to the spirit (for that much he could do), but the spirit didn’t seem to understand what he wanted. 

His voice too was gone. He figured that, even if he could talk, it wouldn’t do much good anyway. The spirit might not speak English, instead communicating in the language of higher beings, a language that no mortal could hope to know. He stretched his arms farther out, begging the spirit to take his hands and lead him away to where he was meant to be. 

Just when it looked like the spirit was about to do something, a brilliant sun rose, illuminating the spirit and giving it a halo of fire. The spirit turned to watch the sun rise above the clouds. The spirit glanced back at him briefly, then stared down below them. Making a decision, he finally realized. 

The spirit’s choice did not involve him. It turned and flew into the light of the sun, departing from him forever. But before the spirit disappeared, he saw something on the spirit’s back that made his blood run cold. 

The spirit had huge, back wings protruding from white robes. The angel was a demon. It was so easy to see, why hadn’t he noticed? It was wrong. But he still loved the demon with everything he had, and he would love him for the rest of his life. Tears fell down his cheeks and he found that his body remembered how to scream, and he let out a cry of agony as the light surrounded him until it was so hot he thought he would die.   
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bianca shook him awake. “Come on,” she said to him. “You need to get up. There’s someone here for us.” 

“For us?” he asked. That didn’t make sense, They didn’t have any family or friends, as far as he knew. “Who is he?” 

Bianca looked nervous, her eyes flitting around the room, partially shaded by the green cap she always wore. “A lawyer. I think father sent him. He’s come to take us to a school, Nico.”


	2. Angel's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico has had the same dream for three years, but sitting alone on this jar, it finally changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal to post a new chapter before the weekend failed, but at least its finally here :D

He was running from something. He didn’t know what it was. If he looked behind him for even a second he knew he would be dead. He was so tired. Everything hurt. Where was his sword? He had dropped it somewhere. So careless of him. They were at war and he lost his sword. 

The path was littered with rocks and tree roots sticking up out of the dirt. He had been fine so far, but the road was more jagged now. Just as he was thinking that he might be alright, his shoe caught on a stump and he fell face-first into the dirt. He could taste blood. 

The monster was right on top of him now. He closed his eyes and awaited his gruesome fate. But all he saw was the sun rising. The light intensified until the light was all that existed. It was everywhere. He could tell someone was standing over him, but he had to intention of greeting Percy. Maybe if he ignored it, the dream would go away. 

The same dream for years. The first few times he didn’t know what it meant. But now it was clear; Percy was not for him. Percy would never love him but he didn’t care. Percy was with Annabeth now, but he still didn’t care. He loved Percy more than any other person. He also hated Percy more than any other person. He hated how he could never touch Percy in dreams. He hated how Percy was constantly switching between trusting him and pushing him away. 

He stayed curled up on his side, trying to ignore Percy pacing around him, occasionally giving him a soft nudge. Percy knelt next to him, resting a warm hand on his chest. Percy’s hands weren’t warm, he knew for a fact. And he couldn’t smell the ocean sea salt on him-why was that? 

He opened his eyes and was confronted by brilliant blue. Blue like the sky on a clear, sunny day, nothing like the ocean. Strange, he found he liked this color much better. The hand on his chest slid up his shoulder and cupped his face. Definitely not Percy. 

“Nico.” Sweet laughter followed, like there was nothing left to say. His name was everything. 

His thoughts were slow. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t even contemplate what this other spirit even looked like. He knew it had a face, but his brain seemed to put up some barrier preventing him from knowing how it looked. Besides, he couldn’t stop staring at those bright blue eyes. Simply seeing them was wonderful, like eating a warm meal after a long day or hugging a loved one whom you missed. 

“Nico.” There it was again. He was pretty sure the spirit was the one talking, but the scene was so fuzzy that it was hard to be sure of anything. 

“You’re not Percy,” he mumbled, dazed. It was stupid, he knew, but it was the only thing he could think of to say. 

The spirit laughed again. “Oh, Nico, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Where did that come from? It was an immediate response, no hesitation, like something he’d always known. Sometimes that just happened by accident but how could it be when he’d only said that phrase a handful of times in his fourteen years? 

The spirit grinned, and slowly his vision cleared. He recognized the spirit with a start. He had seen this camper around Camp Half Blood for years but never thought anything of it. “Will Solace,” he muttered to himself. The only one at camp who he didn’t intimidate. Funny and pretty and an all-around nice guy. Of course. Who else but his exact opposite would love him?

He reached up and brushed his fingers against the spirit’s cheek. By some miracle the angel’s face did not disintegrate or vanish. Instead his fingers hit warm flesh. So soft. He ran his palm over the skin and into messy curls. 

“You need to let go of him.” 

His heart rate sped up and his grip tightened in the angel’s blond hair. 

“Come with me. Be happy. You deserve it.” Will leaned down and kissed Nico’s lips softly and it was so right and so obvious that Nico wondered how he had ever been so occupied with anyone else. When they ran out of air Will pulled away in time for Nico to rake a short breath before they connected again, their kisses slow and sweet and packed with so many emotions. Will let his lips trail along Nico’s jaw and down his neck. 

“Will,” Nico whispered after a few moments. “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

Will lifted his head from where it was tucked under Nico’s chin. “No,” he responded simply. “Never.” 

Nico felt his heart simultaneously break and swell. He didn’t trust himself to speak for fear that he might burst out sobbing. Will knew what he wanted to say anyway. 

“I love you too angel.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Nico’s eyes fluttered open weakly. He was still in this hell-hole of a jar and probably would be there until he died. He had only eaten one of his stepmother’s pomegranate seeds, but he didn’t have that many to spare anyway. He was too weak to do much else than breathe. 

He stared up at the tight clay walls and thought. So, Will Solace. If he lived long enough to get back to camp before the Romans invaded, maybe he would be able to talk to Will Solace.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this means that Nico is eleven in the first chapter but just roll with it


End file.
